


Vampire Omens by Ariaste

by GO_Library_archivist



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Interview With the Vampire (1994)
Genre: Crossover, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-26
Updated: 2013-09-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/pseuds/GO_Library_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crossover with the...well, it should be obvious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vampire Omens by Ariaste

**Author's Note:**

> Note from [Quantum_Witch](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantum_Witch/profile): This story was originally archived at [The Good Omens Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Good_Omens_Library), which I maintained for eight years until I closed it due to lack of funds and decreased usership. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing the GOL's stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in July 2013. I e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Good Omens Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/TheGoodOmensLibrary/profile), or through the [GO_Library_archivist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/GO_Library_archivist/profile) account.

Vampire Omens by Ariaste

  
Summary: Crossover with the...well, it should be obvious.  
Categories: General Fanfic Characters:  Crowley  
Genres:  General  
Warnings:  Language (mild)  
Chapters:  1 Completed: Yes  
Word count: 904 Read: 142  
Published: 22 Sep 2005 Updated: 22 Sep 2005

 

* * *

 

Aziraphale did a double-take. There was a mortal in Heaven. Well, what was supposed to be a mortal, but had a sort of immortal aura about him. And, although the immortality seemed mostly neutral, the man himself had a definite tang of sin about him. He had curling, golden hair, in the style of late 18th century France, strangely bright blue eyes, and he was blinking rapidly, as if he wasn't used to the light. Well, Aziraphale wasn't in any position to discriminate against what looked like a demon, even if it was a very handsome demon walking about Heaven.

But Aziraphale wondered...

*****

Heaven. Ah, cherie, it was the Paradise all the poets had told of. The great light filled everything, including my eyes, cast downwards; my eyes that had not felt light without fear or pain for over two hundred years. But suddenly I felt the thoughts of another! No mortal, nor an immortal of my own kind, but an angel. An angel, cherie! He was looking at me and wondering... I saw myself through his eyes, gleaming hair, marvelling eyes and fancy clothes that seemed out of place in this perfect land.

Well, dear reader, you know me. You know who I am and how I love to flaunt. I turned to him.

******

"Hello, I'm Aziraphale," Aziraphale said. "I couldn't help but notice you walking about, I didn't know Heaven let demons visit, I must have missed the memo." The demonish being blinked, then tossed his beautiful hair and laughed, showing extremely sharp canines and eyeteeth.

"I'm not a demon," said the not-demon in a French accent. "I'm a vampire."

"Oh," said Aziraphale. "I thought they were just fantasy."

"Non! Where have you been, Earth?"

"Yes, actually. Since Creation. I only come Up Here to visit." Aziraphale had never been VERY fond of the French, he thought that a culture that regarded frog's legs as a delicacy was very odd indeed*.

*Crowley didn't like them, either, he remembered. Had something to do with their smugness. Aziraphale and Crowley agreed that the only thing going for the French was their wine (and, after enough of said wine had been consumed, they began thinking of much more interesting virtues of the French, like nude beaches.)

 

"Oh," said the vampire, obviously put off.

"What's your name?" asked Aziraphale kindly. It was never very easy for the newly dead, he thought.

"Lestat de Lioncourt. And I'm not dead! I'm here on a tour."

"A tour?" Aziraphale asked, slightly dubious. "Well, if that's what their calling it these days."

"No, really! Memnoch's escorting me." Lestat added, saying the name as if it was terribly important.

"Who?"

"Memnoch? You know. Him. The other Him. He said he doesn't like his other names."

"No, sorry, don't know any Memnochs. To be frank, it sounds like a name some dowdy old horror/fantasy writer would use if she was a bit pretentious, wanted to sound impressive, and had no knowlege of Hebrew, past the names Michael, Azrael, Uriel, Gabriel... And it also sounds like she doesn't like the Hebrew suffix '-el', which, of course, means--"

"I don't give a damn!" said the vampire.

"Lestat!" called a figure from the top of the hilltop.

"There's Memnoch, I must leave now." The vampire paused. "You remind me of the newest of my fledglings. English, intelligent, likes babbling, and is extremely gay."

*****

"It was very odd, Crowley," Aziraphale said the next day over tea with the demon. Crowley was trying to stop crying with laughter.

"After all these years, there's a book you haven't read. Care to play hockey tomorrow?"

"What does hockey have anything to do with it?! It's the middle of summer." Crowley looked with fond amusement at him.

"In Hell, angel, we'll play hockey in Hell, and bounce the puck off all the frozen demons." Crowley giggled a bit into his teacup.

"You know the vampire?" Aziraphale persisted.

"Well, not KNOW know. I read his books. Past tense, read."

"He's a writer?"

Crowley snorted. "He and the 'coven' he belongs to publish books under a pen name, yes. And I got his autograph on my copy of his book, yesterday. I saw him walking through Hell with that Memnoch fellow.." Crowley paused, smiling nastily. "Right after that, I told him he should go home and fuck the living daylights out of his emerald-eyed fledgling, Louis--"

"CROWLEY!"

"You read the books, angel, and see how obvious it is that the two of them are this close to panting at each other's feet, and THIS close to jumping each other at any and every given moment." Crowley sipped his tea, with a small, amused smile. "Sad thing is, I know how the blessed arrogant French bastard feels."

"Do you?" Aziraphale said weakly.

"Louis is, and I quote it directly from his mind, 'his black-silk haired, emerald eyed, Beautiful One. His sexy Creole fledgling that he'd like to fuck until the randy little thing couldn't move for exhaustion and couldn't complain and whine because his throat'd be stripped raw from screaming his Maker's name.'"

"And... how do you know how that feels?" Aziraphale asked in confusion. Crowley leaned forward.

"Because I've got my own angel to adore."

 

* * *

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://library.good-omens.net/viewstory.php?sid=86>


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